Picaflor
by maravelous
Summary: AU; She was buzzing in his ear like the birds and the bees in their honeysuckle paradise. — KimiTen
1. melody

Picaflor  
Chapter One: Melody

* * *

There is a melody that only the hummingbird can sing. It's a song of the dancing bees that lilt through the flowers and honeysuckles, and of the gleam of the dew that clings to the tip of a weak blade of grass in the dawn. Of the sun, and the moon, and the rays of light that each try to outdo each other with. And of the long nights in a storm-washed shelter, alone and waiting for something, wondering if it even exists. It is the melody that only the hummingbird can sing, because only the hummingbird can hear it.

* * *

Kimimaro sometimes wondered if the only reason he'd survived up till now was because Orochimaru, his diseased foster father, had fed him in his childhood. There must not have been any other explanation. He couldn't have sustained himself otherwise.

Because he couldn't say the word 'No'.

Well, he could say it. Just not easily. He simply couldn't turn a person down. It wasn't that he was softhearted. No, he was a sophisticated, cruel human being, who could stomach a good number. But he couldn't let a request go.

Oftentimes, he found himself doing favors for people, such as walking a dog, or cleaning the boys' bathroom at the school where he worked as an English teacher.

Or grading a class — _significantly _not his — on their homework assignments.

He scowled down at the math paper as he checked to see if the student had done every problem. It wasn't that he didn't know what he was doing. All teachers had to have a good grasp on every corner of knowledge; their very work had to deal with all extents of the aspect of wisdom. He didn't have to grade on correctness either, and it wasn't that he loathed the subject in particular. He only loathed finishing work he wasn't supposed to.

"This isn't my fucking class," he ground out to himself through his teeth. "What the hell is Deidara thinking?" Usually he kept his tongue, but when he wasn't at work, or in the preponderance of publicity, he swore like a trucker. He sighed as he set the paper to the side on the top of the gigantic pile, a sigh that sounded like a thirsty child setting down a glass of water, and he looked up at his ceiling.

Why had he accepted this? It was the most grueling, tedious thing; hunkering down in a corner of his dark and well-groomed apartment over a polished wooden desk, grading extra papers by candlelight while Deidara did who-knows-what with his boyfriend Tobi in a seedy motel off the coast of Oakland Lake, neglecting his profited work.

He was always doing this, since _they_ were students at the meticulously named Oakland Private High School where they both taught. Deidara grabbed advantage of not only their friendship, but Kimimaro's reliability. Now, as a math teacher, he was annoyingly persistent with Kimimaro to do anything he said, from keeping his and Tobi's interoffice relationship a secret, to helping him out on extra assignments. He was a loyal friend, Kimimaro supposed, but he couldn't have been more indignant to the load of crap he got from the guy.

He knew what Deidara would say now, of course, if he was there. He'd tell Kimimaro to "lighten up" and "put a smile on that sour face".

Kimimaro slapped a ten-out-of-ten on the top of the paper and moved on to the next one, muttering darkly, "I'll put something on _his_ damn face."

—

TenTen had flunked Algebra Concepts three times, American Government once, Biology twice, and English a grand total of four times. She'd failed on attendance both Freshman and Sophomore year, and in Junior year she'd been one hour away from having to retake the year, she'd missed so many classes. To sum it all up, she'd also never gotten more than a Three in Citizenship.

But there was one thing that kept her going, at least. One thing she saved her passion for, one thing that was the fuel to her life.

Ballet was her art, her major, her specialty, her fastidious, meticulous need. It was the thing she looked forward to the most through the oh-so-slow hours of school days. It was a wonderful feeling, knowing that at least one instructor had nothing to criticize her on.

"TenTen! Pull in! Watch your Brisé, _Brisé_!"

Or not. She cursed herself inwardly and paused short in her Coupé to suck her stomach in tightly. Remembering to breathe, she landed on her feet gracefully and whipped herself into the Demi Detourné Anko had placed into her choreography quite carefully.

"And one, two, three…TenTen, face! It must be zé beautiful face that I am seeing!"

She fixed her expression from one that was probably filled with pain to one of tranquility and calm concentration. She used her momentum to go into her Fouetté en tournant, spinning with her toes to her knees in a recondition of a second turn, and did five of them, her arms opening and closing prettily, before she spun out of it and leapt into a Grand jeté that landed her into her final position, with a Bras Croisé, her arms crossed beautifully and her back turned to her invisible audience, as the piano ended triumphantly, echoing around the room.

"Ai, TenTen…"

TenTen relaxed, recognizing Anko's stern lecture coming on, and turned around a little sheepishly, although wondering what the hell she'd done wrong now. Breathing hard, she patted her two buns on top of her head, feeling the strands coming loose; she'd been at this for an hour and a half!

Anko turned to flick the remote at the large radio in the corner, turning off the music that had switched to another song; a faster, happier one than the morbid piece TenTen had been spinning to. Anko faced the girl and glared, hands on her tiny hips. "What is zé matter with you?" she snapped, voice echoing off the cream walls and wooden floors of the pocket-sized studio. "How long is it that you have been doing the practicing for me in the night? Tell me zé truth."

"I…I've been trying to get in an hour, but…I have so much _home_work, and-"

"Don't lie to me," Anko snarled, cutting TenTen's lame excuse short, and TenTen winced; the Russian woman had a funny accent, but she could sure sound like evil incarnate half the time. "I saw you out yesterday, with your friends, and your cigarettes, and your brick wall…It was after the hours of your silly school, no?"

TenTen tried hard not to laugh at the way she said cigarettes. It sounded like 'cig-ar-ett-es', all spaced out and stupid. But she loved Anko, deep down, and she knew it. She was strict, but that's how TenTen liked her teachers. Not like the people at school, who would see you sleeping with your head on your desk and not do a thing about it.

"…I don't smoke, Anko," she said innocently. Anko just glared at her, and she looked away in modest concern for her own wellbeing; Anko could smack like a demon.

"TenTen, your head needs to be getting into zé game, yes? You aren't working hard enough, and you know this, yes?"

"…Yes," she mumbled.

"No, you do not. Ai, you stupid Americans."

TenTen liked how Anko said that too, with the 'u' sounding like a double-'o', the' i' sounding like a double-'e', and the 'r' sounding like an 'l'.

"So, here is what you are going to do. You are going to practice at home, now, oh-kay?"

TenTen nodded. "Yes, Anko."

"And you will be improving, and you will be ready for zé competition." She smiled at TenTen, allowing the relief to wash her down. "You are my favorite. You are knowing this, yes?"

TenTen smiled as well in spite of herself. "Yes."

"Good. Now, go home. Practice tomorrow. I will see you on Tuesday, and not at the school smoking with your cig-ar-ett-es, and your silly boys that you sit on your brick wall with, yes?"

"Yes."

"Good girl. Go home and get some sleep, now."

"Alright. See you Tuesday, Anko. Thank you."

"Yes, child."

As TenTen crossed out of the small studio room, running her hand along the barre and looking up at the wallpaper, decorated with small lines of white and gold, great portraits of dancers doing Plié's and Posé's hanging around on all the walls, she sighed to herself, thinking about what Anko had said about the cigarettes.

She opened the door into the dressing room, closed it behind her, and turned to her coat, hanging on the hook on the inside of the door, to fish out of a rather large pocket a little cardboard box.

"Sorry, Anko," she whispered to herself, shaking the cigarettes once. "Ballet is ballet. But I don't do that obedience crap."

—

Kimimaro didn't know why he'd chosen the job, other than the few small factors he could still remember: Deidara and Tobi had pressured him into it, and he'd had a terrible Guidance Counselor. Either way, the choice was one of the worst mistakes he'd ever made. Kids seemed to love him, but he could honestly care less about kids.

There was always, however, that strange feeling of satisfaction he got when he saw them leaving. Senior English was his most interesting class of all, because he was always invited by someone-or-other to witness the graduation ceremony, and he'd get some stupid sense of pride watching his class walking down that stage, grabbing their diploma, smug smiles on their fat faces and those ugly caps and gowns downing their skinny bodies, the baggy sleeves hanging off of their arms like mutated wings.

He couldn't remember a feeling like that ever before in his life, and as soon as the graduation was over, and as soon as the day ended, the feeling went away, and he couldn't tell if he was looking forward to the end of the next school year because of _that_, or because he'd have summer vacation.

That, of course, was one of the perks of being a wallflower, in his words. The only thing good about being a teacher, was the summer vacation. No other job got that, and no other job could _afford_ that. Those long three months of freedom, just working a side job at a bike shop or something like that…It was beautiful.

But even so, it didn't make up for the six or more months he spent with those brats. He looked over his desk now. His current Junior English class was finishing their homework before the hour ended. Or so it seemed…He could see that fat girl Sakura texting under her desk, and the always-whiny Ino texting behind her book. Shikamaru was sleeping. Chouji was eating something out of the front pocket of his backpack. Ami, who resembled a hippo, was texting in her purse. Kiba was texting behind his thigh. Naruto was texting on his _desk_, plain to see! Come on, at least the rest of the class bothered to try and hide it.

He smirked and turned to his computer. Zeroes for the day, for all of them. He usually gave the poor, stressed-out kids a break, but the miserable creatures had been putting him an awful mood recently. The stupid little imps deserved it. No, it wasn't that he hated teenagers. Just their attitudes.

He heard the clack of the door opening, and turned to look across the room, along with half the class. He always found that annoying, when every mindless teenager turned in their seats at once to stare at anyone that happened to enter, as if they were specifically choreographed. What if that student had a cold, and there was snot falling out of their nose at that exact moment? The poor thing would be embarrassed, and Kimimaro would have to go through all the tedious processes of filling out a report to go down to the damn counselor's office.

Luckily, the student was clean. In fact, she was well dressed, in flowered clothes that were similar to a Chinese style. She was tiny, and had long brown hair up in two buns, matching a big, sparkling set of eyes. Kimimaro frowned; she had a yellow page with very curvy writing on it. Definitely a pass and a note, from another teacher.

He sighed as she began to walk across the room towards him; he recognized the careless stride, the way she chewed her gum and swayed her hips. He could detect already the faint scent of smoke wafting off of her, mixed with some sort of sugary lotion she'd splashed on her tan, freckled arms. It was clear, that she was one of _those._

"What's up?" he muttered simply. That wasn't only saved for her type, of course. He greeted all kids like that. He supposed that's why kids commonly told him they regarding him as a kid himself. But he could care less what the freaks thought of him.

She spared him a strange look before she held out the paper nonchalantly. "I was told I'm transferring into this class," she said simply, with a shrug. "I was failing the class I'm supposed to be in so they knocked me down into this one, I guess."

Kimimaro took the paper with as much patience as he could. The way she said it, it was as if this Junior class wasn't hard enough.

He glanced over the page, not caring how long he made TenTen wait in front of the desk, although he noticed with satisfaction the way she started swaying side to side, bored and impatient and snapping her gum.

_Kimimaro:_

_I've failed TenTen before, and I simply can't do it again. She needs help, and I know you've never had to fail a student in your entire career. Short as your history with teaching may be, that's still an impressive accomplishment, and it's caught my interests. Maybe you can turn the girl around, I know she's a smart kid. Very sorry to bother you, but you won't have to worry about the transfer, I've already worked it out with her counselor._

_Deepest Thanks and Best Wishes,_

_Asuma Sarutobi_

_ELA 12_

Kimimaro looked up from the note and stared at the girl. He knew it. Another ungrateful, idiotic…

…What was this…?

All thoughts faded completely when he noticed something. She was staring at an upside-down book on the desk in front of him. It was _Crime and Punishment_. Kimimaro had been going over the margin notes that a student in his Advanced Placement class had made, and he'd set it down there to observe the class. The girl was staring at the back cover, and reading the summary, and the critic's corner.

There was a sparkle in her eyes Kimimaro had seen only twice before.

The first time he'd seen it, it was in himself. He'd been looking in the mirror while shaving, in his Sophomore year of college, and he'd decided, as if on a whim, what to do with his future. He'd ended up slicing his chin open with the razor, but he could still remember the look.

The second time he'd seen it, it was in one of his favorite students that he'd ever passed, Temari Subaku. She was an interesting and strange child, but in a good way. She was intimate, and she analyzed literature in a way no one else in the class could.

She didn't like classic novels. Instead, she read things that sparked her interests. For instance, instead of picking the obvious choices for independent reading assignments, she chose Greek tragedies and great Native American myths, and she had these wonderful spiritual preferences that Kimimaro had never even heard of before in a child of her age.

He'd seen the same old look that TenTen had now when Temari was graduating, and she'd run over to thank Kimimaro for all his help in Honors English with this huge smile on her face, and a gleam in her eye. A glimmer of determination, excitement, interest…

Kimimaro smiled, despite himself. He smiled, something he rarely did. He smiled, and his eyes seemed just a bit warmer, his personality, just a bit friendlier, and TenTen, standing at the foot of the desk, looked up, and found herself slightly startled at the sight of it.

"TenTen, huh?"

"Uh, yeah."

When a hummingbird comes across a young flower, barely just a bud, that will not unfurl when the hummingbird pokes it indignantly with a long beak, then the hummingbird will leave it alone and move on to another one. Just as some beautiful things start without a person knowing, and some beautiful things start when a person is fully aware. That person will not mind in the least, because some beautiful things are better left untouched, until they unfold the way they're supposed to.


	2. bumblebee

Picaflor  
Chapter Two: Bumblebee

* * *

The hummingbird's wings make a buzzing noise like a bumblebee, and that is found annoying, is avoided. It's a warning, that the stupidest thing in the world is coming to sting, and that sting is painful. But both a hummingbird and a bumblebee sacrifice so much. Not only in their job, which is important and time-consuming, but when they do sting, when they do reach the climax, they give up more than they should.

* * *

Kimimaro could not stand the new girl. And yes, after the length of one hour with her, he had become accustomed to not standing her. Because what a torturous hour it was! Just as that Temari Subaku had been a godsend, TenTen had probably crawled out from the darkest corner of his personal hell under the orders of driving him permanently insane, and for a number of reasons that he simply had to list mentally; it was a certain habit every teacher picked up eventually, to organize every single little thing that crossed their mind:

The first sin was a hot chocolate she'd dragged out of her sleazy backpack (the bag was purple, and decorated with numerous playboy bunnies stitched in white) that she began to sip. He'd told her to cut it out, as he considered food or drink in a classroom a great insult, but she said since it was first hour, she should have been allowed to drink something caffeinated to wake herself up.

So he threw it away.

After that, she sulked for the rest of the hour in silent contempt, but Kimimaro was not at peace, oh no, not even close. She got her revenge by smacking her gum in a disturbingly loud volume, and chucking the wrappers at the trash can and purposefully missing, then refusing to pick them up. She kept her feet propped up on the chair next to her, and when the hour was finally over, she actually stood up _on her chair_, clambered over the desk, _vaulted_ off the artificial wood, and strode out the door, the only evidence of her existence being left behind in the form of three dusty footprints on the polished furniture Kimimaro took such care to clean, since the janitor neglected his room.

"She's evil, she's _stupid_, and she's out to get me," Kimimaro finished with flair. Kakashi across the table from Kimimaro was laughing, and Iruka next to him only seemed impressed by the length and passion of the eulogy he had so needed to dispose of. Kimimaro glowered and took a sour gulp of his margarita, seeing neither of them understood his tortured exhibit.

"Wow, Kimi, every day it's another incessant flow of idle complaints about your students," Kakashi said piteously. "When will your agony end, eh?"

Kimimaro resisted the urge to cringe at the nickname. "Kimi.' Ugh. Iruka had created the foul, feminine word back in High School on a whim, and Kakashi picked up on the trend not too long after. It was aggravating. Both men were well-educated, and professional when need be, but immature, and seemed to be too concerned with their personal benefit. "After all," Kakashi had said, "saying 'Kimi' saves time. Your name is hard to say, I'd rather it be quick, and cute."

To Kimimaro, it seemed more a subject of laziness than a term of endearing.

"Well, what do you suggest?" he asked finally. "You're the ones that drilled into Deidara and Tobi the idea to get me into this job, and you're the ones that helped me pass that sociology class."

Kakashi cracked a confident smirk. "That we are," he declared. "So, since you are _our_ responsibility…Iruka!" He turned to the man next to him with a smile. "Give it a shot."

Yup. Definitely laziness.

"Um…" Iruka frowned, concentrating. "Well, is she necessarily the _worst_ of your students?"

"Not exactly, I suppose. But she's one of them," Kimimaro muttered.

"It's only the first day, Kimi," Kakashi droned.

Iruka nodded. "He has a point. Give her another chance. You never know what she's really like until you get to understand her completely, inside and out. And that's what a teacher's job is, isn't it?"

"I really don't want to do that," Kimimaro said warily. "I'm afraid she'll turn out to be some sort of radioactive…" Kakashi and Iruka gave him a look, and he sighed. "But…if I must, I suppose I must…It's my job…" He finished off his margarita with a final sip.

After fare-welling his friends, Kimimaro made his way home. He always walked to the bar and back, so as to save on gas, and because he only lived two blocks away.

It wasn't too late, as he crossed from Meyer Rd onto Campbell, a homey little shortcut to his apartment with lots of trees and scenery. It was sunset, and the peach-and-plum sky above was studded with ice cream clouds and puffs of Jacob's Ladders. He felt the chills of late October dancing with the goose bumps along his arms, and decided to buy himself a new jacket tomorrow, since it was finally the weekend. But a new jacket only meant that winter was on its way, and he could feel already the dread that came along with it.

He was deciding where to shop the next day when he turned a corner to his street and saw something strange. His apartment was on the ground floor, and sat right on the corner of the block. He could see from where he was his brick porch, and there was something on it; a shabby and impudent bag made of fake purple leather…with white playboy bunnies stitched into it.

And next to it sat a miniature brunette girl with a cigarette in her mouth.

—

"So you got kicked out of your house, eh?" Kimimaro gathered from the long trail of excuses the girl had immediately spluttered out of her mouth after catching sight of him. Being the generous idiot he was, he'd regretfully invited her into his house for a hot chocolate or something of the sort.

He still didn't know why he did that, instead of just shooing the girl off his porch to run along and smoke in the park of something. Only, the red cheeks and the chapped lips of her shivering face managed to stretch taught the sad little heart he possessed into resorting to inviting her into the warmth of his apartment to explain herself.

TenTen looked up at him sheepishly from the other end of the table, rubbing her empty hands together; she had refused a drink, but fortunately stamped out her cigarette before she entered his cleanly home. "I didn't, actually, get kicked out, I kinda…"

"Ran away?" Kimimaro guessed dully. "I should have guessed."

"You have a very sarcastic sense of humor," TenTen retorted, rather observantly Kimimaro couldn't help but think.

"And you are reckless," Kimimaro stated, sighing and placing his hands on the table. He really didn't need this. "So," he began. "What are we going to do with you?"

TenTen stared down at the table. "Alright, I'm sorry," she muttered. "I didn't know it was your porch. I just needed a place to sit for a second, I've been…running…"

Kimimaro couldn't help but watch her curiously as she spoke, and muttered distractedly, "Really…And the park at the end of the street was too far away for you, I gather."

"I've never been around here before!" she said defensively, immediately snapping her head back up. "How was I supposed to know there was a fuckin' park at the end of-?!"

"Hey, hey, hey, watch your mouth," Kimimaro ordered, interrupting her. "You happen to be in the presence of your teacher."

"So you got a BA in Creative Writing. Wow," TenTen said dully. Kimimaro grit his teeth visibly, and she rolled her eyes. "Please, could you get over yourself? _I'm_ the one with the problem here!"

"You _gave_ yourself that problem, kid," Kimimaro muttered. "Listen. Right now, _I _am frowning at you across _my_ kitchen table in _my_ home, giving you _my_ best shot at pardonable hospitality, and any second I could send you right back out into the cold. How does that sound to you?"

TenTen said nothing, but it was obvious that the point had been made. Kimimaro thinned his lips as patiently as he could. "Okay…Let's call your parents."

"What?" TenTen asked, blinking. "W-Wait…"

"I'll have them come and pick you up," he said, standing and pushing the chair into the mahogany table.

"No, um…we…don't have a car, I can-"

"That's a lie, you just want to keep running away," Kimimaro went on with his preoccupations, taking his cell phone from the counter. "Okay, what's the…number…"

He found his voice fading when he saw her eyes.

It was awful. That same old glitter, but this time it was sad. She was standing up, running over to him, shaking her head desperately. She was quiet, as if frightened that the walls had ears.

"Listen," she said, and all the attitude was out of her voice. "Listen; I can't go home. I can't. I can't tell you why, but I just…I can't see those people again. Please," she begged. "Please. Don't make me go back there. Don't make me go back there."

Kimimaro froze, watching her blankly.

"I…I won't be a burden, I promise!" she went on. "You won't even know I'm here! I have all the clothes I need for tonight and tomorrow. And I can get everything I need from my house when they're not home. And…and it'll only be for a few months." She bit her lip. "I'll sleep on the floor if I have to. But can you…can I…please…"

Kimimaro couldn't believe what she was asking him. But what was even more vexing was the response that came out of his mouth.

"Well…I have a sleeper sofa."

And thus, he had made the stupidest mistake of his life. And he knew it.

—

It was a curse, really. A cunning and practiced curse set upon Kimimaro unceremoniously by some sort of complacent, agnostic god. The inability to refuse an offer caused him much grief in life, much grief. But the inability to refuse a favor sought the poor man piteously, and commenced upon him such a seemingly charming affectation he almost felt melodramatic.

He decided to prolong the constrained silence that stained his apartment, spreading slowly and rapidly like ink being pressed to paper by a pen. TenTen blinked back at him boldly and inquiringly, with what she obviously thought was perfect innocence. It was more malignant that anything, in Kimimaro's opinion.

It was five in the morning, and he was still trying to get over the smell of cigarette smoke that was wafting around _his_ home. He was also trying to rid himself of the well-anticipated dread that came with the sight of this girl sitting on _his_ sofa, with her book bag, filled with clothes and shampoo and…_feminine_ products.

He inhaled slowly as he scrutinized her, and presumed that, calculated by the smell, she had been smoking for a couple minutes before she'd heard him approaching, and stamped the damned thing out. Now, it was time for the interrogation.

"Where is it?"

"Where's what?" TenTen responded immediately. Too soon for an unpracticed answer.

"Where's the cigar?"

"What cigarette?"

"I didn't say cigarette. I said cigar."

"…What?"

"I've heard enough." Kimimaro pinched the bridge of his nose wearily. "Stand up."

"My…leg hurts."

"_Stand up_."

Grumbling beneath her breath, she hoisted herself into a standing position. Nothing was on the sofa behind her, but she kept her arms crossed behind her back.

"Hold out your hands," Kimimaro said loudly. This was beginning to get tedious, he grimly noted as she obeyed slowly and reluctantly. One of them was in a fist. Getting impatient, he reached over, grabbed her wrist, and forced her as gently as he could to open her hand. And there in her sweaty palm was a crumpled cigarette butt.

He didn't even have to say anything as she wrenched her wrist out of his grasp and glowered. He just looked at her, and she groaned. "Alright, I'm sorry. But it's just a cigarette, and I really needed a smoke, and-"

"I swear to god…Do you know how much damage secondhand smoke can do to a person?" he snapped.

"Not as much as actually smoking…" she muttered.

Kimimaro glared at her. "The fumes from smoke sink into cloth like the kind my sofa is made out. And it's impossible to get it out, you just have to wait until it fades away. So, thanks to you, I'm going to permanently damage my lungs, and about five seconds of my life have officially been taken from me."

TenTen blinked. "That was kind of an unnecessary speech, wasn't it?"

"…You are unbelievable…"

—

"Why am I here?" TenTen grumbled. She and Kimimaro were walking down the shiny, bright hallways of a nearby Kohl's. TenTen hated Kohl's. It was all so prim and pretty and shiny and organized…

"Because I need to buy a jacket, and I don't trust you staying alone in my house," Kimimaro muttered. "Now shut up. You said I won't even notice you, now stay true to your word."

"Couldn't you have at least gotten me breakfast?" TenTen muttered as they turned a corner. She heard the sound of a nearby couple's shopping cart screeching, and winced. "Couldn't you have, like, given me money to get breakfast and let me go while you got your stupid jacket?"

"Don't you have your own money?"

"I'm…saving it," she said. Secretly, she was only saving it to get more cigarettes later on. She'd been feeling the desperate need to smoke lately, it was almost painful. "I can't use it 'till Monday."

"Wow. You're an investor."

"Shut up."

"You can't talk to your teacher like that," Kimimaro scolded her. They finally got the coats, and Kimimaro began to skim through them.

TenTen watched from the isle, hands stuffed in her pockets moodily, glancing around. Couples were everywhere, picking out tiny outfits for their Little Miss Muffin, newly married and pregnant with one more. Men with ugly brunette flattops and hideously striped polo's, and pretty women with straightened blonde hair, wearing pastel pink shirts with, "Does this baby make me look fat?" printed on it in obnoxious neon green.

How naive. She so did not want that life. But she wasn't even close. She was going to try majoring in ballet at a community college and make it 'till the age of thirty at Radio City Rockets, then drop out and become a bus driver for a class of Elementary kids so loud she'd have a brain tumor and die at the age of sixty-seven. Yes, she already had it all planned out.

But she wasn't going to get _anywhere_ with this guy! She glared over at Kimimaro, who had disappeared around a corner to try on a coat and look at himself in the stupid mirror. Why did all the students love him? So far, he was as big of a douche as all her other ones. All the girls squealing over him, shrieking about how hott he was, they were idiots. They were all idiots. Everyone…

"Here."

TenTen gave a small yelp of alarm, twisting around all the way, when a hand landed on her shoulder. She stared, open-mouthed, at Kimimaro, who raised an eyebrow neatly, then she sagged in annoyance. She hated these malls. They freaked her out, made her into a paranoid mess!

"…Okay…That happened…"

"Shut up!"

"You can't talk to your teacher like that." Kimimaro frowned, but held out a small jacket. It was made of fake brown leather, with a cute white fur hood and collar. "Try this on, I'm sure it'll fit you."

"I thought you were shopping for a coat for _yourself_."

"And I already got it," Kimimaro said with a shrug, showing her the black Peabody coat he had folded under his arm. He scratched his head. "But I was reminded of you when I saw a little kid run into a wall,"

Wow, thanks.

", and I noticed you didn't have a coat."

"…I left it at home."

"You're lying again," Kimimaro said, triumphant when TenTen looked away. "If you had a coat, you would have brought it with you when you ran away from home, since you brought everything else you'd needed."

"I had it in my back pack."

"You would have been wearing it. It's cold outside."

"Well, I don't need a coat," she finally said defensively, crossing her arms and turning her nose up to the brown thing Kimimaro held out to her.

Kimimaro sighed. "TenTen, take the damn coat."

She looked up at him, then rolled her eyes and snatched the thing away from him. "Fine, fine! You're so pushy!" She tried it on in front of him over her long-sleeved pink shirt, and it fit her perfectly. She took it off again, not bothering to look at herself in the mirror, and threw it at him quite violently, barely giving him a chance to catch it.

"I guess it's about time," she said with a sneer in his direction. "I was freezing cold on the way here, only because you won't _drive_."

Kimimaro's eyebrow twitched, and suddenly, he reached into his pocket. TenTen blinked as he rummaged around, and suddenly threw at her harshly her coat, and a large bundle of cash strapped in a rubber band. "There. The money that I got for myself from the bank," he said darkly as she tried not to drop everything in surprise. "It's sixty dollars, in twenties. It's exactly enough to pay for your damn coat. I was going to use it for my breakfast for the next couple days, but I guess I'll have to go on credit."

"Um…" TenTen said, but he turned on his heel and began to walk away.

"You can do whatever the hell you want," he said loudly over his shoulder, attracting the attention of two couples giggling over a set of ceramic plates painted with pictures of Santa Clause. "Come back whenever you want, go wherever you want. I could honestly care less, just that you're not hanging around me like some annoying bug."

TenTen blinked, and watched him walking away. The sixty dollars were in her hand, dangling by her side, the coat sagging in the crook of her elbow. She stood alone in the middle of the shiny isle, lost in thought, listening to the stupid couples talking about glass mugs and all the other idiot things in life that she didn't want.

—

Kimimaro could not believe this. The girl was so ungrateful, so determined to annoy him and irritate him to the point of fury! She was just the most aggravating child he had ever met, and not even a child! A teenager, a young adult, floating between the point of hormonal trauma and womanhood. She was just so immature for her age!

He heaved a frustrated sigh as he flipped a page of the homework he was going through. What was he supposed to do? This girl had run away from home, and he had opened up his house to her, stupidly, for…he didn't even know how long!

He was reminded of the time his ex-girlfriend had tried to move in with him when they were still dating. They'd been together for about two years, and she thought he was going to propose to her, when really she was just annoying to him, and any time he tried to break up with her, she seemed to have an excuse to talk about something else. So he was stuck with her, and he didn't know what to do with her for a while, until Kakashi convinced him finally to break up with her after she asked Iruka if his penis was bigger or smaller that Kimimaro's at the bar one day; when she wasn't even drunk.

It was just that same old helpless feeling he hated. And, being reminded of Kakashi, he had to wonder what the hell he was going to do when Kakashi and Iruka found out. "God, I'd never hear the end of it…" Kimimaro groaned into his hands in despair. This girl was going to be the death of him.

And that's when he heard the front door open. He turned around slightly in his chair to see TenTen coming in. She was wearing the coat he'd bought her, and having trouble stumbling through the door and closing it behind her with a foot. She looked up to face him, and lifted in her hands a large tray filled with some awkwardly-smelling bags from McDonald's.

"I, um…" TenTen walked forward sheepishly, and stopped in front of him at a small distance as he faced her completely. "I went to get some breakfast. I got you a cherry pie, but since I didn't know if you liked those things or not I also got you a hash brown."

Kimimaro stared at the food. "I thought you were saving that money."

"I…I can live without it," TenTen said with a small shrug. Kimimaro could tell she was regretful by the pain in her eyes. But whatever she was saving it for, he was sure that it wasn't something to hate himself over.

He looked down at the food. "…Why did you buy this for me?" he asked, looking up at her again.

She glanced at the ground. "I'm…I'm not good at obedience and manners and…stuff," she said churlishly. "I don't really know how to act when people do stuff for me."

Oh, he'd realized.

"But…" She faced him again. "All I do know is that you're giving me all I could ask for. And…there's nothing that I can really do for you. Except buy you breakfast." She held out the tray meekly. "So…Thanks, sorry, excuse me…I guess that's what I'm trying to say."

Kimimaro stared at the tray. He hated McDonald's. He could see the grease dripping into a puddle around the tray. He could smell the cigarette smoke from TenTen's mouth and the sofa. And she had gotten a stain from a cherry pie on the sleeve of the new coat, already.

But he smiled, and took the hash brown. "I guess I'll just have to teach you how, then," he said, opening the bag the salty thing was in and taking a mournful bite. "I mean, it is my job. Right?" he continued with a full mouth.

TenTen smiled in relief, and set the tray on the desk Kimimaro was working on rudely. Kimimaro winced, could already see the grease stains on the papers. But he said nothing, because the look in TenTen's eyes when she said, "Right!", was just a little too innocent to contradict.

Besides, the hash brown wasn't really that bad. "It's good," he commented. "For crap."

"Shut up…"

"I'm your _teacher_, TenTen."

The hummingbird is small and helpless, like a bumblebee. Like the bumblebee, the hummingbird always has something on its mind. Like the bumblebee, it will always rest at the end of the day, and it doesn't need the world that called them annoying, its work speaks for itself; job complete, not so stupid after all…


	3. butterflies

Picaflor  
Chapter Three: Butterflies

* * *

Grace is not beauty. Grace is not nourishment. Grace is living. Grace is getting by. Grace, to the hummingbird, is desperation. It can not be passed up.

* * *

Kimimaro knew that teenagers were random. He knew their sense of humor was still underdeveloped, and dirty jokes were passed around here and there between them quite casually, but they still had a child's love of anything stupid or unneeded. He hadn't predicted it to be this bad.

"TenTen."

"Yes?"

"Why is there a crumpled McDonald's bag in my closet?"

"I was trying to grow a McDonald's tree."

And so on.

She had actually been temporarily using his closet as her personal trash can, obviously. But her interest in the obnoxious was indefinitely annoying. He crudely guessed that she thought his vanity was only overcoming his prudence. In his opinion, she was quite apparently proud of herself, of her own savage virtues. He was cherishing the design to get rid of her.

Of course, good things came to those who waited, he knew. Patience was a beautiful attribute in a person.

And apparently, he had never acquired it.

"Clean up after yourself from now on, and I promise you'll have something in your stomach by the end of every day."

"Are you insinuating a threat?"

"No. I am _directly using_ a threat."

"How cruel. I'm hurt."

What a lying nuisance. Kimimaro crossed his arms and looked down at her. She was curled in the corner of his big sofa, which was serving as her bed still, texting on her cell phone. "TenTen, school starts again tomorrow. You do know that you're going to have to toughen up if you really want to get your act back together."

She avoided his gaze and pouted down at the back of her cell phone moodily. "…Whatever."

"I'm going to work you extra hard in English, particularly. And I'm not going to let you slack on your homework."

"…Fine."

He watched skeptically as she turned her phone over and read a text. It was late, the sky was growing dark, and the lamp next to her threw shadows along her face, which was lit eerily by the cell phone. He wished she'd go on a walk, like she'd been doing recently quite often, and leave him alone. But it was late at night, and being the idiot he was, he'd refused to let her out at a time as late as this, since he _was_ technically her responsibility for this temporary period of torture, and if she came home to him in three pieces strung together by her own intestines, he'd probably feel a tad guilty…

He noticed her cell phone now and tilted his head to the side. "I'm surprised your parents haven't cut you off yet."

"Eh?" She glanced down at her phone in her hand. "Oh. Well, uh…I guess they haven't…But that's a really scary idea!" She bit her lip and sat up a bit. He winced, watching one of her boots scraping along the sofa's soft surface. "Is a cell phone everything to teenagers?" he muttered, turning around and walking into the kitchen; he could hear the teapot going off on the stove. "I barely ever use mine."

"What? You're kidding! How do you live?" she asked seriously. He heard her jumping to her feet and following him into the kitchen. "What kind of phone do you have?"

"An LG Shine, and I'm lucky to have it," he said simply as he turned off the stove. "Go get the tub of hot chocolate, will you?"

She walked over to the cabinet above the sink without a word and dragged herself onto the counter on her knees (Kimimaro cringed visibly) and reached for the hot chocolate. "LG Shine, huh? Nice! _I've_ got an iPhone, though, so I win."

"Win at what?" he asked complacently, taking the kettle off the stove and getting out two mugs.

"Well, my cell phone's better than yours, it's a given," she said easily, hopping down from the counter with a thump and chucking him the hot chocolate. He caught it smoothly and sighed, beginning to spoon the powder out into the mugs. "Does that really matter?" he asked. He honestly couldn't see how this subject had even been aroused.

"Well, I guess not." She watched him scooping the chocolate into the mugs. "You have any marshmallows?"

"Nope."

He glanced at her as she knit her eyebrows together and plumped her lips thoughtfully. She looked slightly laughable for a brief second before she said, "Can you go get some?"

"No." He began to pour the hot water into the cups carefully. "This should be good enough for you, shouldn't it?"

"We had marshmallows back at home."

"What a tragedy, that there are no marshmallows in _my_ house."

"Why _aren't_ there?

"Because I don't like marshmallows."

"Something's wrong with you." Kimimaro raised an eyebrow as he finished pouring the hot chocolate and handed TenTen her cup. "Why?"

"You don't like marshmallows, and you don't use your cell phone. You're weird."

"I choose to talk to my friends in person rather than text away my money."

"Isn't it more convenient to spend less time and just text them?" she asked, taking a small sip.

He poured the hot water into the sink. "No. It's just as convenient to call them. And I also rather abhor chat speak, so I make a point to avoid it as much as possible."

"Why?" TenTen wiped some chocolate away from her lips. "Why are you so opposed to the convenient?"

"I'm an English teacher, TenTen. I suppose we tend to be a little opposed to that kind of stuff. I enjoy writing post cards and talking to people on a phone more than using lower-case letters and numbers to spell out who's going with who to the football game next weekend and why the gum on the floor of so-and-so's car was there."

"That's oddly specifi-"

"-Just say thank you and drink your hot chocolate."

—

"Look, I don't understand why Starbucks' logo isn't a buck with a star over its head or something like that," TenTen was saying when they finally walked through the school doors together on Monday morning.

"It's simple, you needn't over-think these things," Kimimaro said calmly as they slipped through a large group of chattering students crammed into the hallway. "It's just abstract, I suppose. It must have something to do with the company itself."

TenTen frowned and turned her hot cup of coffee around between her hands. They'd gone to the stupid place before school. Apparently Kimimaro didn't drink any coffee other than the coffee at Starbucks. What a sting! "We could've gotten Caribou Coffee. At least their logo makes sense."

"Yes, but their coffee is terrible," Kimimaro said simply.

"Hey, TenTen!" TenTen blinked and glanced over her shoulder. Kimimaro's eyes followed her gaze curiously. TenTen cringed when she saw Lee and Neji leaning against a wall, smirking at her. Her best friends, usually the ones she hung out with behind the school on the brick wall. Lee was waving slightly. "What are you doing, huh?"

"I'm going to class, Lee. I'll talk to you guys after school as usual," TenTen muttered. Jeez. The ingrates! Couldn't they leave her alone in the mornings? It was too early to deal with people like them, she was still tired!

"But Neji and I were wondering something." Lee snickered a bit, and he pointed to Kimimaro with a bent elbow. Kimimaro raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, we were just wondering," Neji said with slavish politeness. "What are you doing to get an A in Kimi's class?"

TenTen tilted her head to the side. What were they implyi…?

…Oh…

She grimaced, and placed her hands on her hips furiously. "If you're insinuating what I think you are you'd better shut up, 'cause you're wrong, and a hypocrite!"

Neji stopped laughing with Lee to raise an eyebrow. "What are you going on about, Ten?"

"What are you doing with _Hinata_ every night, eh?" TenTen asked slyly. "I hear you have to live in the same _room _with her now. How are things _going_, huh?"

Neji immediately reddened. "Sh-Shut up." TenTen made a face.

"Oh come on, Ten!" Lee said happily. "You can tell us if you're having relationship issues, right? We're your best friends!"

"And…" Suddenly Kimimaro intervened. TenTen jumped, she'd almost forgotten he was there. "…you're going to be getting an E for the day _again_ if you continue to act like freshman." Neji and Lee stiffened. "I'm sure your parental guardians would be furious, as well, to get another email explaining how pathetic you are."

Lee bit his lip, and Neji sighed. "You always get us, Kimi."

Kimimaro laughed, and turned around. "Don't call me that." He looked over his shoulder as he began to walk. "Hurry up and come to class, TenTen. I have a project to assign you."

TenTen watched his back retreat down the hall. He greeted a few students who shouted hello obnoxiously back to him.

"Hey, Ten. You sure you're not sleeping with him?" she could hear Neji say behind her, he and Lee walking up to her. But TenTen wasn't noticing them. All she could focus on was the way Kimimaro's long hair swept behind him, the way Kimimaro's mouth tilted in an indignant smirk as he chatted to a student about some sort of project or something, the way Kimimaro walked…

…Whoa…Why hadn't she noticed that ass before…? Now _that_ was a real man-ass…

She was starting to feel queasy for some reason…

"…Uh…Ten…?" She jumped about a foot in the air and gave a squeal of fright when two huge eyes popped in front of her vision. "Lee!" she cried as the boy backed up sheepishly and scratched his head. "Don't do that!"

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he said meekly.

Neji raised an eyebrow. "Sheesh, what's getting into you?"

"I think the answer to your earlier question was 'yes', Neji," Lee said with a shake of his head, a grin spreading slowly along his round face. "And that's what's getting into her."

"You have a point. Did you see where TenTen was looki-?"

"Shut up, Neji, or I'll tell Hinata your reaction to that vodka last summer!"

Neji's eyes widened. "You promised you'd never…!" he hissed.

"Oh, yeah, you'd be really upset if I told _Hinata_ wouldn't you?" TenTen said with a wicked grin. "And _you_!" She pointed a finger to Lee, who cringed.

"Me…?"

"I'll tell Gaara about that wet dream you had of him!"

Lee gasped. "T-TenTen, be _quiet_!" he whispered hysterically, glancing around the crowded yellow hallway to see if anyone had overheard.

TenTen sneered. "See? I have you guys wrapped around my finger. So don't go spreading stupid rumors."

Neji frowned. "Yeah, yeah…But don't think you're off the hook. I don't like you screwing around with teachers."

"I'm _not_, Neji, I just…ran into him this morning, and he bought me coffee and gave me a ride, because I was cold. He's giving me extra credit for an assignment."

"Extra credit?" Lee's mouth opened wide. "_You_? Why?"

"Because I need it, obviously," TenTen muttered. She glanced over her shoulder. Kimimaro was no longer in sight, probably having had turned the corner already.

"Where did you get that coat?" Neji asked rather observantly. "It looks brand new…"

She ignored him. "Listen, I gotta go. I'll see you guys after school, okay?"

"…Uh, alright. Bye."

"See you later, Ten."

She was off in a second, walking through the hallway swiftly to try and catch up to Kimimaro. She didn't manage to, but when she got to the classroom, he was there, sorting through some papers on his desk. She entered, and he looked up.

"Oh, good. I thought you were going to spend all day with those two idiots."

"You know them?" she asked uncertainly as she walked over to a desk and sat atop it, glancing around; no one was in the classroom yet.

"Yes, they're in my sixth hour. Get off the desk." She obeyed moodily and leaned against it nonchalantly. She watched as he slipped a few papers into a folder. He moved very fluidly, as if everything was practiced beforehand. It was like she was watching a dance. His body was very…interesting to look at…

Yet again, she started to feel queasy, and she looked away from him immediately and crossed her arms over her stomach, staring grouchily at the windows on the other side of the room, the shades of which were up, allowing the smudged glass to gaze out into the courtyard.

Hm. Kimimaro was certainly a character. Someone that she _needed_, of course. She…she couldn't go back to those people.

Never…

"Here you go." She blinked and looked up. He was holding out two books. She took them hesitantly, and he crossed his arms and stood in front of her business-like. "This is your assignment," he said as she turned the books over in her hands.

One was _Crime and Punishment_. She'd seen it before on his desk. The summary was apparently, if she could remember correctly, about a man who thought it was just to kill a woman who had no use in life, and whom no one would mourn.

The other was _The Catcher in the Rye_. She'd heard of that one before, but had no idea what it was supposed to be about.

"What…am I supposed to do with them…?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and looking up at him.

"What _else_, TenTen?" He glared at her incredulously. "Read them."

"Sh-Shut up, I know that!" she snapped, flustered as she slammed the books on the desk behind her grouchily. "I mean what am I supposed to do as I read them? Write a paper, or something?"

"Nope. Just read them."

TenTen raised an eyebrow. "Are you joking?"

"No, I'm not."

TenTen stared at him suspiciously. He just gazed blankly back at her. "You do know that you won't be able to tell if I actually read it or not."

"Oh, I'm not worried about that." TenTen noticed the smirk tugging on the man's thin lips and frowned curiously. "What are you getting at…?" she asked cautiously.

"Just that I don't think I'll really have to worry about whether or not you're actually going to read."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what you think it does."

"But I don't _know_ what it means." Kimimaro sighed, and TenTen glowered. He was treating her like an idiot. "Okay, okay, I'll read. Or try to."

"I'm sure you can manage."

"Well. I guess since you're so sure of me, you should go get me a Caribou Coffee."

"I_ just_ got you a Starbucks."

"But I want _Caribou_."

—

After school that day, TenTen went to her usual spot at the brick wall at the end of the parking lot in the back of the building, where no teachers parked and no windows opened up to and no one could see. That was where she always was, with Neji and Lee. Smoking.

She let out a puff of smoke onto her hands, cupping them in front of her mouth, a cigarette slipped between two of her fingers. "Man, I needed this…" she groaned.

"'S wrong with you?" Neji asked, smoke escaping his lips with each syllable. "Long day?"

"Chyeah. I mean, first hour was _shit_."

TenTen wasn't lying. It was her second class with Kimimaro, and her first _full_ class with him. She'd expected, after her first couple minutes last Friday that it was going to be a blow-off class, where you could read the whole hour and do one occasional paper that wasn't really worth many points. But she was mistaken.

Fridays were reading days in his class. Because Kimimaro seemed to believe, with good reason, that the kids needed a break after the other four days of flipping through dictionaries and reading ancient analytic criticisms of literature and reciting passages of Shakespearean poems. And what was worse was that all the idiots around TenTen seemed to be actually _enjoying_ themselves. The girls all giggled squeamishly every time Kimimaro said something to them. The boys laughed with him like they were the best of friends.

What the _hell_ was wrong with these people?!

"Maybe it's because you're actually working, TenTen."

TenTen glanced over at Lee. He was sitting atop the brick wall, puffing his own cigarette churlishly. "What?"

"Maybe you found your first hour with Kimimaro hard because you were actually trying. And you rarely try in your school work."

TenTen rolled her eyes and leaned against the wall. "I don't need to."

"Yeah, that's right. You're only interest in your ballet class." Neji sniggered and nudged her with his elbow. "Didn't you tell me that you're gonna try out for the Radio City Rockets or something like that?"

"Listen, just because you spend every waking moment of your life studying like a fuck doesn't mean that the life I choose is a stupid one!" TenTen cried, throwing him off of her and snapping immediately.

"Shit, calm down," Neji said, raising an eyebrow. "Sheesh. You're so on-edge lately, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm just sleepy." She leaned against the wall again, hearing Lee laughing above her nervously. She gazed out at the parking lot, seeing her breath fog in front of her, and inhaled another puff of smoke from her cigarette refreshingly, trying to warm her chilly body.

She wasn't about ready to tell Neji and Lee the truth yet. That she'd run away from home, and now was staying at Kimimaro's. As a matter of fact, she wasn't really ready to tell anyone. Anko, especially. She'd _incinerate_ her. TenTen could hear the lady's voice cracking like a whip in her ear now, screeching in her Russian accent about how all this drama would only result in distracting TenTen from ballet.

TenTen _knew_ that was probably how it would end up. And that her parents would, sooner or later as Kimimaro had pointed out earlier, cut her off from her money. She would no longer be able to use her cell phone. She wouldn't be able to go to ballet class. She'd have to practically mooch off of her friggin' sap of an English teacher 'till he'd had enough and kicked her out.

Like everyone else, when they got tired of her.

—

It was late when Kimimaro noticed TenTen finally slamming her way back into the apartment. He rolled his eyes as she cursed aloud, stomping her dirty feet on the mat just inside the door, and pretended not to hear the word. "Welcome back."

She groaned as she flopped immediately down onto her sofa bed. "It's _cold_ outside!" she complained highly, not thanking him for the welcome.

He closed the closet he'd been getting his coat out of, and walked over to the kitchen table. "Well, here. I got a Starbucks coffee, but I won't have time to drink it. You can have it." He picked it up and walked over to her.

"Ew, no way. I don't like Starbucks. I only like Caribou." She craned herself over the edge of the sofa clumsily, and gazed at him. "…Heh…?"

He noticed her eyes straying to his outfit, and looked down at himself. "Oh, this? Yeah, I have to dress up for it."

"For…what?"

"For the teacher's meeting." He walked over to the sink and began to pour the coffee into it regretfully, feeling a tinge of frustration thanks so TenTen.

"What are you doing?"

"Pouring out the coffee." Teenagers really did ask a lot of stupid questions.

"Why don't you throw it out?"

"Because the cup is made of cardboard, therefore I can recycle it."

"Why?"

Kimimaro rolled his eyes and decided not to answer. Instead he asked, "Have you started on either of the books yet?"

She let her legs drape rudely over the edge of the sofa. "Nah. I didn't really have the time." She watched him put the cardboard cup on the countertop, saving it so he could place it in the recycling bin later. "What's a teacher's meting like?" she asked curiously after a while.

He turned to her. "Dull," he answered honestly.

"Boring?"

"Very."

"Why did you decide to become a teacher?" She sat up a bit, and he sighed and sat down next to her on the sofa, seeing he had about three minutes before he had to leave, and she probably wasn't going to stop asking her goddamn questions very soon. "I was pressured into it by my friends."

She seemed to be enjoying herself. He glanced at her curiously as she got onto her knees, staring at him with big eyes. "Why didn't you just say you didn't want to be a teacher?" she asked, threading her fingers together casually.

"Being a teacher isn't actually that bad," he said, shrugging and leaning back into the soft fabric of the sofa, staring out at the wall. "I like helping people."

"How long have you been a teacher?"

"Three years."

"Has it gotten easier or worse?"

Kimimaro paused, and laughed. "It's hard to say. It's always been a lot of fun, but it's also always been terrible, if you can imagine that. I have to be incredibly organized, on top of everything, looking out for at least one hundred students a day…it's hard. I can barely sleep at night, because of all the grading and all the papers I have to fill out. I can barely keep my social life in tact." He stopped when he realized he'd been ranting, and laughed again, turning to TenTen. "Ah, but what about you?" he asked, not really knowing why he was wondering in the first place. But he _was_ wondering. He _was_ curious.

"What about me?"

"Well, you do know you're going to have to face your issues sooner or later, head on, don't you?" He shifted himself so his whole body was turned in her direction, an old technique he'd used in Psychology class back in college. It not only helped the student feel like they were drawn into the conversation, but it forced the teacher to draw all their attention on the student.

And because all of his attention was on her, that was when Kimimaro realized it.

She was one pretty girl.

This wasn't like him. Normally, when observing a girl in class, he forced himself to stare into her eyes. He wasn't attracted to those underdeveloped bodies anyways. But this girl…she was different.

Well, he knew that already. The moment he'd seen those eyes glittering in an interest that could only be adult, he knew there was a woman sleeping in there, that had yet to awaken. He could see her now, as she stared at him. Her lips were parted; full, plump and a steamy pink. Her skin was lightly tanned, like cream being cooked over a fire. Her breasts, well, he usually didn't care about this but…

She was indeed underdeveloped, sure. But…well-rounded. Yes, definitely well-rounded. He hadn't seen a body like that in a long time…

His stomach turned, and he snapped his eyes back to hers. They were shining with inspiration, curiosity, excitement…

"Why…" He cleared his throat, he sounded a little hoarse. "Why aren't you sad, huh? You're supposed to be a teenage girl, aren't you? Why aren't you hormonally unbalanced, sobbing into the bedpost and listening to your favorite chick flick playing on your pocket computer?"

She laughed a little, but he could tell she was a little breathless, because she rapidly flicked her head away from him, and she could see a blush staining her cheeks. Why? Was the conversation embarrassing? Or was it something else? Why did she keep glancing at him out of the corner of her eye?

"I, uh…Well…" She looked up, and he watched as she placed a fingertip gently to her bottom lip. "I guess…" Her eyes strayed into the distance. "I…I guess it's because since the last four days I've been here, I've woken up, and I've been warm." He stared at her, and the queasiness in his stomach returned, stronger than before. "I've been driven to school in a car, gotten coffee and donuts for breakfast, and been given a…I guess a chance. I get to hang out with my best friends, I get to do my favorite thing, ballet, I get to text people on my cell phone, wear my favorite clothes…" She smiled, and turned to him, and he saw it again.

How pretty she was.

This girl…looked like a woman…

"And I don't have to deal with _them_…" She said happily. "My parents. I don't have to deal with those people anymore. So for now, why the hell should I be sad about that?"

He was unable to tear his gaze away from her.

"I don't have to deal with them anymore, and anything is better than that…"

—

"Gosh, why did he have to make me take the trash down?" TenTen muttered to herself darkly as she stomped back into the apartment. She closed the door behind her, and looked up. Kimimaro had left for his teacher's meeting, and ordered her to drag the garbage down to the curb.

TenTen was almost glad he was gone. She tripped over to her sofa bed, and slouched down into the cushions breathlessly. The stupid…stupid…

He was such a…s…stupid…

She felt herself blush and squealed, "_Shit_!" into her hands, bending over into her knees.

Kimimaro was _so_ goddamn _hott_!

What was wrong with him, wearing that sexy outfit?! That dress shirt, which hugged his muscles _so_ perfectly…those pants, they just…they showed off his ass, and that jacket, which made him look so badass…

What kind of teacher was _that_ supposed to be?!

And what was with the smile he'd given her before he left? What was he thinking? Was he making fun of her? Was he…

What was that…?

She blinked and straightened up, spotting something on the kitchen table.

She sat up slowly, then got to her feet. As it sank in, she walked over to the kitchen and slowly came to a stop in front of the table uncertainly.

And finally, she smiled.

He was a great teacher. That's what kind of teacher he was. A great one.

For the first time ever, she felt like someone was really listening to her. Like someone really cared about what she said. That barely ever happened. Ever. But Kimimaro…he was…

"Great…" she whispered, leaning over to the coffee that sat on the table, steam curling into the air above it cheerily.

Oh, and not just a coffee. A _Caribou_ coffee.

Grace, to the hummingbird, comes in the most unnexpected of places. In the flower's stem, they can find another world. And they'll leave it be, for now.


	4. fingertips

Picaflor  
Chapter Four: Fingertips

* * *

Every flower has a story. A morning and a night. A life.

* * *

"Happy Tuesday," Kimimaro greeted TenTen sarcastically the next morning as he exited the bathroom to find her sitting at the kitchen counter on one of the stools helping herself to some toast.

She turned her head over her shoulder, and only gave him a glower before turning back to her breakfast again. Kimimaro rolled his eyes and walked over to the counter to grab the remote. He flicked the television on, and a cheesy advertisement blinked onto the screen showing off an ample amount of fruits. He sighed and turned to pour himself some of the readily-made coffee.

"Have you been reading the assigned books I gave you yesterday?" he asked casually. He was already dressed and ready for work, but TenTen was still in her pajamas, her hair a lavish mess. She shook her head, still not saying anything. Kimimaro sighed. "Are you going to talk at all today?" he insisted.

"…Tired…" she mumbled through thick lips, and proceeded to rest her head on the counter, closing her eyes.

Kimimaro frowned as he took an amorous sip of his coffee. "I always find it astonishing, the lack of sleep teenagers seem to acquire," he observed. "If our school board was more altruistic, we'd start school at a much later time."

"Stop using big words…" TenTen moaned, voice muffled through the sleeve of her sweatshirt. "Too tired…"

"It's not my fault," Kimimaro pointed out. "You tend to dawdle when it comes to sleep. Your alacrity lasts 'till an alarmingly late hour of the day."

"…What…?"

"…Go to sleep earlier," he translated his allegation.

"…No." Kimimaro raised an eyebrow as she lifted her head groggily and pointed at him with an accusing finger. "You got up at _four_ this morning and woke me up too while you were at it. It's _your_ fault I'm not getting enough sleep."

"I'm a teacher, I need to get to school early on certain days."

"To do _what_?"

"I don't believe telling you all the details of reading newsletters about attendance and union laws would amuse you." Kimimaro tapped a finger against his ceramic mug, listening to the small sound it made. "What's wrong? I don't recall such clamor the other day when I woke you up early."

"That's because I didn't have ballet that day." TenTen sighed in agitation. "I'm gonna be tired after a long day of school then I'm going to have to walk all the way to the ballet studio and _then_ I'm gonna have to dance for three hours and I just _know_ you're gonna make me do something when I get back here."

Kimimaro watched her as she tugged on a strand of her hair gloomily. "You take ballet lessons?"

"I thought I already told you that." TenTen looked up at him. "Maybe I didn't…"

"Obviously you didn't. I have a remarkable memory." Kimimaro watched her carefully. "What time is your ballet lesson?"

"…Four thirty…It ends at six thirty…"

Kimimaro nodded. "I'm sure I can manage to give you a ride and back."

TenTen's eyes glittered. "Really?" she asked hopefully. He nodded, watching her with a touch of mirth. "Thanks!"

"Just promise you won't make this another thing I'll end up regretting…"

"…I can not promise that…"

"Fantastic…"

—

The school day went awkwardly slow. First hour with TenTen was quiet, and seeing that most of the kids were tired, Kimimaro decided to go easy on them. However, the rest of the day went quite the same. An easy day, but exhausting to Kimimaro, who had to sit, bored to death, throughout every lesson, listening to them reading aloud from their textbooks and copying interpretations, committing them to memory.

The drive down to the studio, however, was not as bad as Kimimaro thought it would be. TenTen was surprisingly pleasant in the car, while Kimimaro expected she'd be pressing buttons and turning knobs. She seemed to like quiet, peaceful drives, for she spent the entire time looking out the window. That was something Kimimaro could share in common with her; enjoyment in scenery.

Unfortunately, as TenTen had warned him, the peace would not last long.

He was sitting in his car, texting, and had been there for about fifteen minutes now. Finally having enough of it, he grumbled to himself and climbed out of the car, pulling his jacket closer to him. The sky was already starting to darken, and the late autumn chill wrestled with his senses.

The dance studio TenTen attended was inconveniently placed in a pocket-sized red brick building, and the annoyed Kimimaro had a tough time even opening the tiny front door, the hinges of which were stuck. When he got inside, he spotted amongst the posy-cushioned upholstery a small desk where sat a little bespectacled teenage girl who rather resembled a cherub.

He walked over, and she looked up curiously. She herself was in a ballerina's outfit, and she seemed slightly unnerved. "Are you here for TenTen?"

"Yes…" Kimimaro said slowly, raising an eyebrow at her churlishness. "Are you a friend of hers?"

She stared at him from behind her glasses and slowly nodded her head. "Yep…" She cleared her throat casually."My name's Shiho. You must be her boyfriend or something?"

Kimimaro quickly shook his head and hands. "No, no…I'm…giving her a ride home…I'm not her boyfriend, not even close."

"Then who are you?" Wow, this girl did not let things slide. There was almost some sort of ambiguous meaning behind what she said…

"…I'm her teacher."

"Sure you are." Shiho suddenly smirked and leaned over the desk, rosy cheeks darkening with eagerness. "Who could resist TenTen? Come on. No matter how old you are, you have to admit that she's adorable."

Kimimaro coughed. "Listen, you're a little amateurish. I think I'll go check on TenTen now…"

"Sure, whatever." Shiho leaned back into her chair. "She's in there." She shoved her thumb daintily over her thin shoulder to allocate a miniature wooden door, vibrating with the sound of piano.

Kimimaro sighed and walked over, opening the door with a hassle and entering an undersized golden room.

And there he saw a wonder of a sight.

TenTen was dancing, and it was alarming, almost frightening, how graceful and beautiful she suddenly was. She whipped herself around, face tranquil and sweet, and leapt through the air, spinning with her arms opening and closing prettily. Using the momentum from the jump, when she landed on the ground, she spun around about five times and finally swung into a lovely pose, bending her body elegantly to dip a hand and foot towards the ground.

And then she was off again, on her toes then off her toes in an anomalously gorgeous climax of ancient potential.

Kimimaro couldn't take his eyes off of her. This maladroit, inept, awkward girl was suddenly so exceptionally charming, the thought of her was not leaving his head for a second. He had eyes for nothing and no one but her, not the crimson designs of the wallpaper or the shine of the wooden floors, or the woman standing against a wall, staring at the girl as well with pride and principal.

As the somber, gentle tune of the piano playing through the speakers began to fade, the woman's thin, painted lips curved into a wrinkled smile. TenTen ended perfectly in a subtle pose, and the piano quietly trickled away into silence, which rang around the small room until the lady's clawed lands came together in a single clap.

"TenTen, TenTen, I am impressed, yes? You have been practicing, have you not?"

TenTen immediately fell out of the pose, and Kimimaro snapped out of it as TenTen grumbled something in agreement. The lady began to walk over, but then she spotted Kimimaro and paused. TenTen turned around as well, and blinked in surprise.

Kimimaro cleared his throat, all efforts of coolness he'd been trying and failing to maintain before finally prevailing. He found his breath, found his voice, and made great effort to keep his eyes away from TenTen's large, dark brown ones, curiosity and interest glinting inside of them.

Staring at a bead of sweat on TenTen's forehead, he said simply, "You're late."

TenTen visibly rolled her eyes.

—

"I didn't tell you something."

"Hm?" Kimimaro looked up in subtle disinterest as TenTen slipped into his bedroom. She had finally mustered up enough promiscuous courage to open the door, and now she was trying not to leave as soon as possible. It was still a little weird, living in her new English teacher's town house, let alone walking into his bedroom.

But as usual, he was friendly and easy-going. He sat cross legged on his bed, dressed in some sweat pants and a long sleeved tee. The likelihood of anything being awkward was suddenly gone, and TenTen walked over to the bed with her arms crossed behind her back. "I said I forgot to tell you something," she repeated, watching him with levelness.

"What's that?" Kimimaro asked. He moved some papers to the side; he was grading homework.

"I'm reading the books." Kimimaro looked up at her. TenTen nodded. "I've started to read the books you told me to read."

Kimimaro gazed at her, then smiled and shoved his papers out of the way. "Sit down, then," he instructed, gesturing to the bed. "I'll give you a little quiz."

TenTen cautiously patted over, and swung herself onto the mattress, bouncing a bit and crossing her legs beneath her. "What do you mean, you're gonna quiz me?"

"Well, first of all, let's talk about 'Crime and Punishment.'" Kimimaro threaded his fingers together, his smooth eyes gazed out at her with experience. "Tell me something about it."

"…Like…what?"

Kimimaro shrugged. "Anything. Anything that caught your interests, anything that's on your mind. Just tell me about it."

TenTen rubbed her palms together thoughtfully. "Um…Well, there is one thing." She put a hand in the air. "That guy, Marmeledov from the beginning in the bar. I understand him."

"Why's that?"

"I dunno…He wants to be forgiven by someone. Even though he says he doesn't. Even though he's done so many things wrong in life. Even though he doesn't deserve it…"

"And how do understand that?" Kimimaro asked carefully. TenTen said nothing, but Kimimaro answered her question for her: "Your parents? You want to be forgiven by your parents?" TenTen still said nothing. "For what?" Kimimaro continued. "What did you do?"

TenTen shook her head, and Kimimaro thinned his lips. "Alright then…How about 'The Catcher in the Rye'. How did you feel about that one?"

TenTen raised an eyebrow and twisted her lips. "Well, it depends on what you mean. Like, as I was reading it, I hated it…You know, I kept waiting for something to happen, something exciting, but it wouldn't. So when I finished, I was all unsatisfied. But after a while I realized that it kinda had a good message."

Kimimaro was smiling again for some reason. "And that is?"

"Well…not a message _specifically_. It's just something you can connect to, you know? Like, no one is alone when they think about hating other people…and…"

"You mean to say, disgust in moral society?"

"Yeah, that." TenTen nodded with self-proclaimed wisdom. "We all have issues with it sometimes."

"I'm sure you can also understand that first impressions are fleeting, brief and meaningless, while afterthought can bring out more than you've ever vexed."

"…How does that have anything to do with the damn book?"

Kimimaro sighed. "You hated it when you read it, however after reading it and thinking back on it you learned that it had a good story to tell," he stated patiently.

"Oh!" TenTen leaned forward a bit. "So you're talking about, like, not judging a book by its cover, right? That kinda stuff?"

"You could say that, yes."

TenTen frowned and stared down at her hands in her lap thoughtfully. She looked up at Kimimaro again. "…Why are we talking about this anyways?"

"I'm trying to tell you that you can learn to love what you think you hate. Like your parents." TenTen's breath immediately caught in her throat. Her eyes darted to Kimimaro's. They were gentle and knowing. "When it's all over," he said in a deep, slow voice, "and you think back on it, you'll miss them. And they'll be an important part in your life."

TenTen gazed at his lips. They were pale, and smooth. Soft-looking, they moved gently and sweetly: "A good story to tell."

TenTen's own lips, delicate and pink, moved dumbly and prettily: "Maybe."

"Maybe." He smiled at her. "For now, I don't mind helping you. I'm just doing my job."

TenTen laughed a tiny bit under her breath and looked down, trying to avoid staring at his face; which was very hard. Her eyes found his hands, and she grinned. "You have tiny hands, wow!"

"What?" Kimimaro laughed as well and held his hands up. "Do I really? I haven't noticed."

TenTen giggled and held her own hands up. "Look, mine are almost as big as yours!" She compared hers to his, letting hers hover in the air in front of his. A large space of air separated their palms from each others, and slowly the space was broken as their fingertips touched.

Immediately a tingling sensation of warmth and autonomy swept through TenTen's body. Her eyes widened, and she could tell Kimimaro felt it as well, because he literally halted breathing. Their gazes met, and their fingertips slowly pressed into each other's.

TenTen said breathlessly, "Do _you _have a good story to tell, Kimi?"

As if being knocked out of a trance, Kimimaro let his hands drop to his sides, away from hers. "When I feel like telling it."

TenTen blinked, and then glowered. "That's not fair!"

"It's late. Get to sleep."

TenTen groaned and swung herself off the bed, stomping over to the door. "At least my hands aren't like two thin slices of bread."

"What a wonderful use of vocabulary. Have you ever considered going into Creative Writing?"

"Shuddup." TenTen smiled, though, as she slid through the door.

"'Night Kimi."

"'Night kiddo."

Every flower has a story. Of sunlight. Of shadows. Of every new yesterday, and every new tomorrow.


End file.
